Raging Heart On (Lucas Brothers #2)

“Well?” I ask her.

Tess is looking in the mirror that hanging on the back of the bathroom door of our room. She’s staring at the tattoo I put on her hip. I’m nervous. Fuck, I don’t do nerves. This is the first time a tattoo has really mattered to me. I want Tess to like it, and the fact that I’m sweating it out makes me feel like my balls are in a fucking clamp. Hell, next thing she’ll be leading me around by my dick and patting me on the head saying, good boy.

“Max…”

“You’ll wear it and like it. Too fucking late now,” I tell her, turning away to pack my tools up. It doesn’t matter if she likes it or not. It’s me; I’m on her now and by god it’s just the first time too. I’ll have my name all over that fucking body before I’m done.

“Will you shut up? You’re ruining my moment.”

“Your moment?”

“Yes, I have a kickass tattoo on my hip. It’s a tattoo made by my man, and I like seeing his name on my body. So, I’m looking in the mirror, enjoying the way it looks and the way it makes me feel, and you’re ruining it with your grizzly bear, alpha male, growly shit,” she huffs.

I slide my arms around her and pull her into me. I kiss her forehead and tuck her head under my neck. “How does it make you feel?” I ask, closing my eyes and just enjoying the feel of her in my arms.

“Sexy.”

“Kitten, you are always sexy.”

“It’s an eagle’s wing,” she whispers, and I can be completely stupid about most things, but I hear the happiness in her words.

“Yeah,” I tell her my voice suddenly tight.

“Why your name woven in an eagle’s wing, Max?” she asks.

I think about not telling her. I don’t have the greatest of luck with women. I wouldn’t give you a damn penny for the women that have walked in and out of my life. Marcum is right though. Tess is different. There’s not a woman I’ve ever met who would go through the fires of hell like she has, for a fucker like me. I’ve given her nothing unless you count orgasms. Still, here she is; proud to wear my name on that fucking delicious skin of hers. Here she is; still willing to go away with me, even with all the shit that has happened in the last few days. Fuck. Who am I kidding? I kidnapped her. I held her hostage and forced her to go with me since day one, and she’s still here. I may not understand what is between Tess and myself, but I do know it’s something worth embracing. It’s worth sticking your neck out for. So I give it to her.

“An eagle can’t fly without its wing, Tess.”

She pulls away, and those green eyes shine with moisture. I catch a lone tear that slides from her face with my thumb.

“I make you fly, Max?”

That softly spoken question sounds so innocent, so hopeful. Does she even recognize that if I give her what she’s searching for, it is like giving her the power to destroy me?

“You make me soar, Tess. You make me soar.”

More tears fall, but she’s smiling and through her choked laughter she still finds a way to give me hell. “You sounded almost like it hurt to admit that, Max.”

“Stop mocking me, before I paddle that ass,” I warn her while turning away to finish cleaning my stuff.

My back is turned, so I don’t see what she’s doing. Therefore, when her voice drags out long and in a pouty tone, I am not prepared for what my eyes see when I turn around.

“Max…..”

She’s lying on the bed, still completely naked. She’s on her stomach and has her ass curved out waiting for me. My dick instantly begs for her attention. What was it I said about her leading me by my cock? It’s probably too late, but what a fucking way to go.

“If I come over there, Tess, I’m fucking that ass, not just paddling it.”

“You’ve been preparing me, Max. If you say I’m ready. I’m ready. I told you; everything is yours.”

I don’t know if there are better words in the dictionary than that. She’s mine.

“Are you sure you up to this, Kitten?” I ask giving her time to back out, trying to remember what we’ve been through. I need her, but I’m not putting my demands before her needs. Tess is the first woman to really mean anything to me.

Her full lips curve in a smile that holds secrets as old as time.

“The question, Max, is if you’re up to it,” she replies with just a touch of sass in her voice. Her eyes lock on my crotch, so her meaning is clear. My dick is straining against my jeans, and my woman is looking at me full of hunger. There’s not a man I know who can turn down that combination.